


Who Could Love a Dragon?

by Cheeseydare



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Nightmares, The soft ending they deserved, Two Dragons in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21575176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheeseydare/pseuds/Cheeseydare
Summary: Daenerys soothes Jon's night terrors and starts her day surrounded by her family.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 17
Kudos: 110





	Who Could Love a Dragon?

**Author's Note:**

> Lets assume for the sake of our hearts and minds that S8 didn't happen here, and our soft fools were granted the ending they earned and deserved. Which was each other, in case anyone wasn't sure.

Her first thought is that it’s dark, very dark. The weak light of a moon in its early stages provides the only illumination to their chambers, the soothing greys and reds all turned to black with the night.

Her second thought is to wonder what woke her. Then she feels it, the twitch of the man next to her. Her nephew, her closest friend, her husband. There is a tremor to the finely honed muscles, pulled taut beneath the marred, pale skin. His lips part, eyelids flutter, unease where there should be peace.

The tremors become larger, more violent movements and she knows he is fighting a ghost of his past. Her beautiful dragonwolf who had bathed in so much blood and loss before they even knew of the other, and in the years since their joining. A peerless fighter who wished only for peace, a peace not even granted to him in rest.

She tightens her arm and leg, each splayed across his frame. Whispers soothing words, sweet nothings, anything that may ease him from the torment he’s trapped in. Gentle fingers card through his long brown hair. Kisses pressed to that dreadful wound above his heart, a sign of betrayal and of his impossible existence.

His eyes fly open as he gasps, hands frantically searching for purchase. Scarred and calloused and burned, strength from a lifetime of struggle, one on her upper back, the other her hip. Squeezing, holding, pulling her closer, as if he means to take her inside of his body.

Wide, grey eyes meet her own, terror and loss shifts to heartbreak and despair as he sobs. She climbs higher up his frame, cuddles his head against her bosom. Here in the dark, alone, she sees the price he has paid. The brave, honorable, selfless fool who had stolen her heart when she thought it lost forever and given her more than she ever dared dream of. Here in this place, he hides nothing from her, nor she from him.

Time unknown passes as she rocks him and kisses the top of his head, her heart rending in two at his sobs, the desperate way he clings to her. The White Wolf, the Dragonwolf, the King of the Seven Kingdoms, a dragonlord, the most feared sword in the realm, known the length and width of their domain. But only she _knows_ him, the fear, the love, the awful dry humor, and tender way he holds her.

It is not the first time he has awoken like this and it won’t be the last. There are many nights where she finds herself pulled against his chest as horrors crawl in her own mind. Their paths have been fraught with fighting and death and loss, but together it’s easier, together they’re stronger.

She had once asked herself as she sat at the top of the world, “Who could love a dragon?” She had resigned herself to the answer, the truth, that none could. She was righteous vengeance wrapped in fire and blood, too strong and too determined for anyone to love.

She was wrong. The answer was in her question. Who could love a _dragon_? Another dragon. Another who understood the impulses, the burning desire, who accepted her as a whole. It was a love she sought to reflect and amplify every day, forever grateful to have found the last of her family.

Slowly, like summer snows melting in the morning sun, he subsides. His eyes dry and his breathing levels out, but his grip never waivers. He opts to stay buried within her, and she lets him. Many times he indulges her own need to stay hidden for a little while. Eventually, he tugs her down so their faces are level, his eyes all the darker from tears and lack of light, meeting her own. It heartens her to see the love and tenderness that has become so familiar over the years.

Gently, she rests her hand along his cheek, thumb stroking the soft hair on his face. He nuzzles into her slightly, similar to how Ghost might. The comparison makes her giggle and his lips quirk at her. She says nothing, letting him choose if he wants to tell her what has tormented him this night.

He speaks haltingly, half-phrases, words trailing off. The cold of the Wall, the crush of fighting outside Winterfell, the dead marching so blue and lifeless. The feel of steel sliding into him, the hot spurt of his blood against him so cold, so alone, so scared. Then it changes, a new apparition has joined, of him sliding a knife into her, of holding her as she dies.

The horror and self-loathing on his face, in his voice, is heavy. She kisses it away, gentle presses against his cheeks, his nose, his brow, his soft lips which have brought her such pleasure, spoken of his devotion with no words. He accepts her reassurances, needs them like a drowning man needs a lifeline. It is easy to provide, he would never hurt her and she knows it to be true, as true as their children live and breathe.

The soft light of early morn spills through the windows as they lay in the other’s embrace. A gentle cry from the adjoining room pulls them apart. He kisses her forehead and bids her stay as he rolls free of the furs and blankets. She appreciates the rippling muscles as he pads away, silent as his direwolf.

Soft noises, his low burr and light giggles float to her. It never fails to make her smile and the sight that accompanies the sound makes her feel as though her face might split. Her warrior, as deadly a man as any alive, a hardened ruler, tamer of direwolves and dragons, looks as at ease with a babe in his arms as with a blade. She remembers the earliest days, his fear that he would drop her, or hurt her, or wasn’t worthy to hold something so precious, but their daughter had wrapped him around her little finger and now he couldn’t get enough.

He sits, careful not to disturb Lyella. That precious bundle held snug against his chest, silver-blonde hair and grey eyes that peer lovingly up at them as she makes happy little noises. She sits up as he slides their daughter into her arms and slips behind her to lean against the headrest. It takes only a moment for Lyella to latch on, suckling happily.

A groan escapes her, soreness seemingly ever present. Strong arms haul her back to recline against a sturdy and smooth chest. She snuggles into her husband’s arms as their daughter feeds. A slight tilt of her head lets her see the awe on his face. He never ceases to be amazed at the sight of them, and tells her constantly of his wonder and pride in her for making such a beautiful babe. She is all too happy to remind him that Lyella is as much his daughter as hers and the words never fail to bring tears to his eyes.

This was everything she could never have dreamed for herself. A loving husband, another dragon, a beautiful child that had quickened and grown in her belly. They had made impossible things happen, but none could compare to the little life that sat within her arms in this moment.

These moments were what she lived for. All the ruling and headaches, all the strife and conflict, all of it was worth having her family, of seeing the newest generation of House Targaryen flourish.

She has never been so happy to be so wrong. A dragon isn’t without love, not when it rests with another dragon.

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed Lyella from a couple of fics that I read, whose names escape me. If you recognize it feel free to post a link. It's a combo of Lyanna and Rhaella, and I love it.


End file.
